


Unturned Pages

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-05
Updated: 2009-02-05
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Hermione has an unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome, run in with Cedric Diggory.





	Unturned Pages

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
  
Clutching her heavy textbook to her chest, Hermione padded through the empty corridor. An icy breeze lifted the hairs on her arm and she quickened her pace. The castle had always seemed the most beautiful to her when it was nighttime and the moon’s light filtered through the windows, casting shadows on the walls. If it hadn’t been for the freezing temperature she might have lingered in the hall to enjoy it, but another chilly wind reminded her to move along. 

 

  
  
The air was thick and silence pressed on the walls. Just as the Fat Lady came into view, Hermione heard a sound. Being intelligent and intuitive, she froze on the spot, listening hard. Heavy feet were hitting the stone floor, coming from behind her. Hoping against hope that the darkness would conceal her, she held her breath and waited as the footsteps approached. She felt the unknown person advancing on her, and just as she was about to run a firm hand grasped her shoulder and spun her around. 

 

  
  
“Cedric, you scared me!” Hermione said.

 

  
  
The tall, dark-haired Hufflepuff looked down at her with warm, concerned eyes and whispered,“It’s okay. I’m sorry I frightened you.” 

 

  
  
“Its fine,” Hermione breathed, still feeling a bit shaken. 

 

  
  
Calming down, she studied her unsuspected visitor. Cedric looked as handsome as always, broad shouldered and strong jawed. Suddenly, an image flashed into her mind; a soft kiss, planted on that very chin. She shook away the memory and brought herself back to the present. She and Cedric hadn’t spoken in days, not since she had seen him with that conniving siren, Cho Chang. The thought made her bitter and she stared at Cedric with a steely glare.

  
  
 

  
  
“What do you want?" she hissed. "It’s not as if you were just taking a casual stroll at midnight.”

 

  
  
“You were, weren’t you?” he smiled, his perfect lips pulling up on one side. 

 

  
  
Hermione felt her heart flutter; she loved that smile.

 

  
  
“I was coming from the library if you must know,” she said, holding his eyes with her cold gaze.

 

  
  
“Well then let’s go back, seeing as I’m not welcome in your common room and we need to talk,” he said.

 

  
  
“Do we? Because I was under the impression that it was very late, that I couldn’t care less about what you feel like doing and that I have no obligation to go anywhere except my bed.” 

 

  
  
She pulled her shoulder out from under his hand and felt his fingers slide off her skin. 

 

  
  
“Please, love.” 

 

  
  
His voice was velvet and pleading. Hermione barely protested as he slipped his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. 

 

  
  
“I need to explain. It wasn’t what it looked like,” he said and glancing down at his feet he added, “I need you.”

 

  
  
Then suddenly, catching her completely off guard, he swept Hermione into his arms and pressed his lips firmly on hers. She felt her body melting as his strong lips sucked her own, possessively and passionately. Her hands pressed up against his chest, pinned to him like a helpless doll, she let him pry her lips apart with his tongue. Warmth stole over Hermione’s body as she moaned, deep in her throat. He dragged his tongue along her teeth and danced inside her warm mouth. Gently, he pulled his face back, careful to hold on to her quivering form.

 

  
  
“Will you come with me? Please? The library will be deserted and I can finally explain myself,” he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers, his hands in her wild hair.

 

  
  
“There’s nothing I need more from you now,” he begged her, "please."

 

  
  
Slowly she breathed out, “Yes.” 

  
  
 

  
  
 

  
  
 Cedric slipped a gold key into the old, wooden door of the Hogwart’s Library.

 

  
  
“How did you get that key?” Hermione demanded, her brow furrowing the way it often did when she was angry or startled. Cedric laughed quietly, having seen the many sides of that face and knowing that it wasn’t always a bad thing. 

 

  
  
“I’m a favourite of Madam Pince’s,” he smiled.

 

  
  
Knowing that he wouldn’t tell her how he’d really retrieved it, Hermione resolved to drop the subject. Had it been anyone else, she would have executed a full-fledged inquiry, but it was Cedric and he, deservingly or not, was the exception. 

 

  
  
The lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing the dark and deserted library. Even then, Hermione couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty of it. The tall, mahogany bookshelves, stacked to their fullest capacity. The scent of musty pages and melting candles filled the room. Holding the door open with his arm, Cedric gestured for Hermione to enter first. 

 

  
  
“Hmph.” She wouldn’t let his chivalry distract her. She strode into the room without looking back, knowing that if she did he would be smiling smugly at her. 

  
  
            

  
  
A few deserted lanterns flickered feebly, giving the room a warm glow. 

  
  
  

  
  
“Thank you, Hermione, for doing this for me.” Cedric was behind her again, this time with his hands by his sides. He forced himself to hold back, to keep from touching her delicate arms. Didn’t she understand how hard this was for him? How unbearable it is to dream of someone tirelessly for months and then to lose it all one stupid night and to not have been able to touch them since? 

 

  
  
He breathed out slowly, and forced himself to ignore the goose bumps that had risen on her skin. It would be greedy to take advantage of her now, when she had so graciously agreed to come with him. 

 

  
  
“Cho was just telling me about how she and Dean had broken up, she was sad, I…” he faltered. “I jus-just wanted to make her feel better. And then she kissed me! I… I couldn’t… and then you saw… and…” he couldn’t finish his sentence. He bit down hard on his lip to keep from saying anything else. 

 

  
  
Hermione’s insides were squirming. Why did he have to do it? It had been so good… she had loved him. She thought he had loved her. 

 

  
  
Refusing to meet his gaze, Hermione spoke to her feet, “When I saw you two together, it killed me. Do you understand, Cedric? I was dead.” 

 

  
  
A single tear rolled down her face and landed on an untamed curl that brushed her shoulders. She was so beautiful, even now. He had hurt her so badly, and he was just standing there, watching her cry. He couldn’t hold it anymore. 

 

  
  
He seized her around the waist and pulled her against him so hard that had he not grabbed her neck in time it would have snapped back. He blindly kissed her soft lips in urgency, entangling his hands in her mane. He had to make her understand, how sorry he was, how wonderful she felt. She ran her hands up and down his back, nails digging in through his thin sweater. 

 

  
  
Parting his lips, he spoke into her mouth, “I’m so, so sorry.”

 

  
  
She was so torn. How was it possible to feel so angry and betrayed and then so desperately aroused from the sight of her torturer? She felt his chest heaving against her breast as he breathed deeply. Her nipples, hard beneath her shirt, rubbed against him betrayingly. She knew she was already wet, and the shame of it filled her. But how could she resist?

  
  
 

  
  
Grabbing her waist Cedric pulled her up, hitching her legs around his hips. Her ankles crossed behind his back and he noted that the heels of her black Mary Janes dug into his back tightly, almost needingly. The knowledge that her body was pressed up against his made him weak. He carried her into a narrow isle between two rows of shelves. Their arms were an uncontrollable tangle of limbs. There wasn’t one inch of him she had felt enough of. The butterflies in her stomach were nothing compared to the sensations in her groin. His heart pounded against her hand as she pressed herself up against his strong chest. 

 

  
  
He pulled their lips apart and groaned, “I love you.”

 

  
  
“Enough of that,” she said, the words striking and strong. She had had enough of his endless apologies. He was forgiven, it was done. She was so far beyond that, her lower regions pounding so hard she was surprised he couldn’t feel them. 

 

  
  
“I need you,” she growled. 

 

  
  
Intensity radiated from her as she looked into his eyes, and he understood. God, he loved it when she used that voice. He’d only heard it once before, on that fateful night when they had first kissed. But he had never felt like this before. His manhood strained, embarrassingly eager, against his trousers. His mind was a feral blur. He bit her lip and pulled, encouraged by the sound of her moan. 

  
  
She felt the pulsing between her legs.

  
  
            

  
  
Yes. This is what she wanted. 

 

  
  
“Be rough with me, Cedric. Hurt me,” she groaned. 

 

  
  
Obediently, he slammed her against a sturdy shelf and tore her cotton blouse apart. Buttons showered the dark, hardwood floor. Cedric sighed as he stared at her deliciously plump, round breasts; filling a modest, ivory bra. She combed her fingers through his hair and he pressed his face against her heaving chest. She arched her back and as he purred into her cleavage, kissing her warm curves. 

 

  
  
“Oh!” She cried as he tore her bra, snapping the clasp clean in half. 

 

  
  
Her newly released breasts bounced, flattered by the shadows cast by the low burning candles. Cedric was astonished by how hard he had gotten, and how quickly. The sight of her exposed breasts was almost more than he could take.

 

  
  
“Touch me,” she pleaded, her mouth dry, “taste me.”

 

  
  
Cedric bent his head forward to take one of her hard, pink nipples into his mouth. He lapped at it greedily before sucking hard. 

 

  
  
Her knickers absolutely drenched, Hermione exhaled with a cry of pleasure, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. 

 

  
  
“Tear me!” She demanded.

 

  
  
He pulled at her nipples with his teeth, careless and rough. 

 

  
  
“Oh god,” she sighed. 

 

  
  
Greed filling her eyes she reached down for his trousers and found to her dismay, a leather belt. She began fumbling with the strap as Cedric stepped back and let her slide down his front. He felt her moistness against his leg as she slipped to the ground, and felt himself grow harder still. 

  
  
            

  
  
She had never looked so stunning. Her unruly hair was splayed against her bare shoulders, clinging to her skin. Her eyes were glazed with a furious passion, a passion for him. Skilfully, she undid his belt and quickly slid his trousers around his ankles. She was now kneeling on the ground, occasionally looking up at him from underneath her dark lashes. Cedric could only hope she was planning on doing what he had dreamed of her doing to him for months.  She, his studious, quiet Hermione was a sex kitten, licking at the skin above the waistband of his velvet boxers. She played with the elastic on his waistband and teased him with kisses planted on his hips. 

 

  
  
"Merlin, Hermione!"

 

  
  
Cedric gasped as she pulled the fabric down, exposing his cock to the night air. 

  
  
            

  
  
She gave him one last, desirous look before she went down on him. Immediately, he felt his knees buckle. He fell back a small ways and grasped at the bookshelf for support. 

 

  
  
She licked at his head, playfully, tasting him. Then she slipped his length into her mouth and sucked as she moved her soft lips up and down. His hips arched towards her, begging. He looked quickly to the side, almost expecting to see some faculty member coming their way. They were alone. His wide eyes turned back to the beautiful sight of her wild, chestnut locks. He gasped as wet fingers snaked their way up his chest. She had been touching herself, the wetness coating her thin fingers. He cursed the fact that he could not do this for her; pleasure her as she did him. He groaned as she directed her attention to his cock once more, stroking him with her slippery tongue.

 

  
  
“Oh, fuck,” he cried. "Please!" His neck was thrown back and arms shaking from the effort of holding himself upright. She quickened her pace, her tongue lapping the sensitive skin underneath. Harder and faster, she bobbed until at last she sucked on his head, harder than ever before. Cedric felt his eyes roll back as he quivered and shook, coming into her mouth. She choked for a second, and then rose to meet his gaze, swallowing. 

  
  
            

  
  
He stared at her, his eyes wet and his heart pounding. Before he could say a word, she kissed him, her tongue exploring the soft skin of his mouth. He tasted himself inside her mouth and a wave of affection surged through him. 

 

  
  
“How was it?” she asked, looking at him coyly. He began to kiss the length of her neck, murmuring between kisses, “Fantastic, bloody marvellous.” 

 

  
  
She had given him the most amazing pleasure he had ever experienced. He owed her one.

  
  
            

  
  
With this in mind, he slowly began to stroke her wet pussy with one finger. She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest, moaning her approval. She draped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest. She would have been insane to have passed this up. Cedric, her knight, torturer and lover. He slipped a second finger beneath the sheer fabric and teased her entrance, seperating the soft folds. Her clit throbbed needingly, every feeling intensified. He then slipped his hands beneath her lower back and head to support her as he slowly kneeled down, laying her against the floor. Her eyes sparkled as he slowly slipped her soaking panties down the length of her glorious legs, never looking away from her chocolate gaze. Her naked breasts thrust upwards were amazing in the candlelight. She purred and closed her eyes, wiggling restlessly, until he lifted her leg over his shoulder. 

 

  
  
Teasing her, he kissed the skin of her inner thigh. He felt her arch her back and lift her hips up, towards him. Smiling, he bent down lower. His tongue brushed through a forest of soft curls before reaching her entrance.

 

  
  
She really was wet, and for him, because of him. Pride surged through his body and seemed to converge near his cock as he thought of the beautiful woman before him. 

  
  
“Cedric, as much as I am enjoying this, if you don’t get your tongue inside me right his instant I will have to kill you,” he heard her growl. 

 

  
  
Though he was more than willing to oblige, Cedric fancied the idea of teasing her a while longer. He smiled into her cunt, and as softly as he could, licked the entrance of her folds. Lapping and gently sucking, but never hard enough to give her release. She whined and twisted beneath him. He gently nudged her clit with his nose and heard her moan in glorious agony. Satisfied, he thrust his tongue inside her, hard. A soft, wet cavern greeted him, a magnificent tunnel full of nerve endings for him to explore. He licked her and pressed his tongue into sensitive crevices.  

  
  
            

  
  
He hit a certain spot that had Hermione howling and pushing his head towards her with all of her might. She grasped at his hair and pulled him towards her in need. She moaned, writhing on the hard floor as the sensations intensified. He alternated between penetrating her with his long fingers and sucking on her delicately. Finally, he sucked her clit, massaging it with his tongue and pulling on the sensitive spot with just a little too much force; exactly the way she liked it.  

  
  
            

  
  
Hermione thrashed her head from side to side, her arms spread out, scraping the floor. Just as he felt her body tremble, he slid her legs around his hips and plunged inside her. She cried out as he rocked, deeper and deeper. A coursing rhythm she followed with her hips. 

  
  
            

  
  
Still beating his cock inside her, he grabbed at her exposed breasts, pulling and twisting the sensitive flesh.

 

  
  
“Cedric,” she cried, “Cedric!”

 

  
  
With his hands occupying her breasts, she slipped her own down between them, rubbing at her clit that was now painfully needy. His arse flexed with each pulsing shove. She lifted her hips and he drove himself inside her.

  
  
            

  
  
"You filthy cunt, you dirty whore."

 

  
  
She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Knowing she would be bruised in the morning, Hermione continued to rock against his granite cock, welcoming the exquisite pain. He grabbed her wrists and shut his eyes as he rammed himself inside her one last time, feeling her tighten around his cock as she shook in a violent orgasm. 

 

  
  
“Ah,” she sighed, as he pulled himself from inside her, and he let himself fall forwards, but supporting his weight on his elbows. He was suspended above her glistening body, listening to her heavy breath. His cock, still hard, grazed her belly as he rolled to one side and let his body relax. Then, twisting a curl of her hair around his finger he propped himself up on one arm.

 

  
  
“So,” he said, “am I forgiven?”

 

  
  
She laughed and turned her head towards him.

 

  
  
“I guess you could say that.”

 


End file.
